


within the stillness

by LiveLaughLovex



Series: first to fight [3]
Category: The Code (TV 2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, F/M, Gen, Post-Season/Series 01, Pre-John "Abe" Abraham/Harper Li
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-20
Updated: 2019-09-20
Packaged: 2020-10-24 12:43:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20706197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiveLaughLovex/pseuds/LiveLaughLovex
Summary: After Harper comes home from Landstuhl, she and Abe find themselves co-habitating for the six weeks her leg is in a cast.





	within the stillness

**Author's Note:**

> Home is where you hear love within the stillness. - Raquel Franco

On the final day of her first week staying with Abe, Harper was pulled from a restless sleep by a nightmare. She laid in the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, until the prospect of doing so until the sun rose five hours later became unimaginable, and then pushed herself up from the mattress, reached for her crutches, and hobbled her way through the half-closed door and down the hallway.

She was surprised to see the kitchen light on. What surprised her even more, however, was the sight of Abe sitting with his elbows resting against the table, focused entirely on the book in front of him.

“Hey,” she greeted softly, not wanting to startle him (though, he was a Marine, so she knew, at least logically, that the chances of that happening were slim to none). “It’s one o’clock in the morning. What’re you doing up?”

“I could ask you the same question,” he replied amusedly, closing the book and setting it aside.

“Woke up, couldn’t fall back asleep. Nightmare,” she said by way of explanation. “Figured I’d get some water, try to fall back to sleep on the couch. Your turn,” she added pointedly.

“Fine, but sit down,” he ordered gently, pulling out another chair and helping her into it. “I’ll get your water for you. No sense in you falling on your face if I’m already up, is there?”

“I’d like to think I’m a bit more coordinated than that,” Harper replied, settling into the seat and reaching for the book he’d been so fixated on when she’d first entered the room. “You’re finally reading _The Things They Carried_, huh? Ferry will be happy to hear it.”

“I bought it the day after he told me about it,” Abe defended himself, returning with a glass of water and placing it on the table in front of her. “I just hadn’t gotten around to reading it until now, that’s all.”

“Thank you,” Harper murmured, taking a sip before refocusing on the subject at hand. “And, what, the middle of the night seemed the most opportune time to catch up on your reading?”

“Not exactly. I wasn’t really sleeping,” he admitted. “It’s… just one of those nights, I guess.”

“Mm.” Harper nodded once. “I can understand that.”

“You been having trouble sleeping?” he asked concernedly. “I’m sure there’s something for that, if you wanted to ask your doctor…”

“It’s not that I’m in pain, Abe,” she assured him with a soft smile. “It’s just nightmares. An aftereffect of the trauma, or so I’m told. They’ll go away soon enough, I’m sure.”

“Okay. If you’re sure.”

“Positive.” She turned toward him. “How about you? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “Like I said, it’s just one of those nights.”

“I have those sometimes. Especially after what happened with Dyer,” she admitted quietly. “It’s worse now, I think. At least with Dyer, I remembered everything. All of it, every single awful second of what happened. Now, though, there’s so much that I _don’t_ know.”

“I can walk you through the report, if you want,” he offered hesitantly. “If it’ll make it easier for you to sleep at night.”

“No, I don’t – I don’t think I want to know it all,” she murmured. “The unknown’s terrifying, but knowing isn’t always better. You know, if I’ve got to know everything, I would rather be able to remember it myself. I just… do you how long it took? For them to get to us after the accident, I mean.”

“Twelve minutes,” he answered promptly, as though it was burned into his memory. Judging by the looks she’d seen him send her way during her time at Landstuhl, it very well might’ve been. “You weren’t exactly close to base, and your escort was, uh… well, it took a while for anyone to know how bad it was. As soon as they did, though, they sent help.”

“I don’t remember it,” she confessed. “I just – it’s a blank spot in my mind. I can’t even – I mean, I don’t even really remember the accident.”

“You had a concussion,” he reminded her gently. “And you were on some pretty decent painkillers the second they got you to a hospital. Your doctors have all said it’s completely normal for there to be a few blanks.”

“I know,” she sighed. “I just… I wish I remembered, that’s all. Feels like something that I shouldn’t just be able to forget.”

“You don’t wish you remembered,” he murmured. “You – it’s like you said, it’s the fear of the unknown. That’s what’s making you feel like it’d be better if you could remember every second of that day. But when you go through something like that – the concussion isn’t the only thing blocking that out.”

Harper nodded slowly. “Did you go through this?” she asked after a moment. “While you were stationed overseas, did something like this ever happen to you?”

“Yeah,” he replied. “I don’t think any Marine’s ever served in an active warzone and not left with something blacked out in their head, Harper. And you always think it would be so much better if you could remember. But that’s very rarely the case.”

“I just – it’s worse, now,” she disclosed. “I still have nightmares of what happened with Dyer on a regular basis, and they’re – they’re pretty bad. But now, with this… it’s like my brain is wanting to fill in the blanks, and it does so with the worst possible scenarios. You know, like, were there civilians on that street? Were other people hurt? Did somebody die and I just can’t remember it happening?”

“The one person who didn’t suffer some sort of head trauma in the crash told me the day they brought you to Landstuhl that you fell unconscious within the first minute of it happening.” 

“So, chances are I wouldn’t remember any of that even if I remembered everything,” Harper remarked.

“No,” Abe agreed. “You wouldn’t. But no civilians were harmed. You were far enough from the village. I read over the reports myself while I was waiting for you to wake up. So, if that helps you to rest easier, then there you go.”

“It does. Thank you.”

“No problem.” He glanced over at her, this time much more hesitantly. “It would’ve been Double D’s birthday today. His thirty-second. That’s why I can’t sleep.”

“Mm.” Harper reached across the table, covering his hand with hers. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“I should’ve prioritized better, Harper,” he replied, his words soft and dripping with guilt.

“You did the best you could with the options you had,” she returned firmly. “You can’t keep blaming yourself for everything that went down back then.”

“I disobeyed a direct order. If I’d done as I was told –”

“Then you would’ve stood by while civilians were killed,” she interrupted gently. “Children. We both know you wouldn’t be sleeping any better with that on your conscience.”

“Maybe,” Abe replied, running a hand down his face.

“You know I’m right; at this point, you’re just being stubborn,” she teased gently. “You were put in an impossible situation, Abe,” she said more seriously. “You did everything you could do to get everyone out of there alive. You aren’t a terrible person because you couldn’t save everybody.” She squeezed his hand once, then released it. “You’re one of the best people I know.”

“Thank you,” he murmured in response.

“Well, I mean it,” she responded resolutely.

“I know.”

She smiled slightly. “You going to keep reading about the Vietnam War?” she questioned curiously, nodding to the closed book several inches away from her water glass.

“I think if I tell Ferry I read it to go to sleep, I might lose my future godfather status.”

“That’s a very real possibility,” Harper agreed seriously. “You should’ve seen him when he found out I’d never read _To Kill a Mockingbird_.”

Abe met her gaze incredulously. “You’ve never read _To Kill a Mockingbird_?” he repeated.

“Why is this so shocking to everybody?” she sighed exasperatedly.

“I don’t know. It just is.”

“Well, I’ve read it _now_,” she grumbled good-naturedly. “Back in school, I wanted to avoid all the jokes, so I avoided the book. It was as simple as that.”

“You’ve read it, though?” he checked.

“I have,” she confirmed. “And it was good.”

“Of course. There’s a reason a lot of people call it a classic.”

“I guess,” she sighed amusedly. “You going to try to get some sleep?”

He shrugged noncommittally, shaking his head. “Seems kind of pointless.”

“We could watch Netflix,” Harper suggested, gesturing to the living room.

“I have Netflix?” he asked.

“Yes,” she confirmed disbelievingly. “The real question is, why did _I_ know that before _you _did?”

“I’m not home often,” he defended himself. “I’m pretty sure I’ve spent more time here in the past week than I did in the previous month.”

“I’m honored,” she murmured wryly. “You’re paying almost ten bucks a month for it, so you might as well get some use out of it.”

“Okay,” he agreed, pushing back from the table and helping her carefully from her seat. He handed over her crutches, careful to be within arm’s reach of her as they slowly made their way to the living room. “You’re getting better with those things,” he complimented, helping her to get settled on the sofa and then placing the crutches off to the side.

“Thank you,” she replied, sinking into the cushions. “Anything in particular you want to watch?” she asked as she brought up the service’s home screen.

“I’ll have to leave that to you. I don’t know what the hell they put on there these days.” He claimed the seat next to her, eyeing the screen curiously as she flipped through show after show.

“_Designated Survivor_? Maya’s obsessed with it,” she suggested, pausing when she’d reached the show.

“Sounds good,” he agreed easily. “Hey, you want popcorn?”

“What did I tell you the last time you asked about snacks?” she called laughingly, watching as he vanished once more into the kitchen.

“Uh, the answer is always yes?” he called back, opening a nearby cupboard and grabbing the uncooked kernels from its lowest shelf.

“The answer is always yes,” she confirmed.

-o-

“So,” Abe began, wandering into the living room at two o’clock in the morning three days later to find Harper seated on the sofa, a pint of ice cream balanced on her good knee and a spoon in her mouth, “are we making a habit of these middle-of-the-night meetups now?” He claimed the seat next to her, eyeing her with concern. “Nightmares again?”

“In a manner of speaking,” Harper replied, spooning out another bite of ice cream. “I got a call from my mother.”

“At two o’clock in the morning?”

“It’s only eleven o’clock there,” Harper excused. “She and Dad were still at the office. And I wasn’t completely asleep anyway. That’s not the issue.”

“Okay. Well, that’s the issue, then?”

“She called to check in on me.” Harper scoffed, shaking her head. “That was what she said, at least. What really happened was that I sat there for half an hour listening to her make a lot of unsubtle digs about my career and, you know, my life in general.” She glanced over at him with dark, shining eyes. “They couldn’t even be bothered to fly out when I was hurt, but they can make the time to insult me. My relationship with my parents is great, isn’t it?”

“They might not have flown out, but they were worried, Harper,” he promised gently. “When you were unconscious, they called me every hour on the hour. They wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Yeah, they don’t mind _you_ knowing they care. They mind _me_ knowing,” she muttered. “I just – I’m so tired of letting them get to me.”

“They’re your parents,” he pointed out. “They’re always going to get to you.”

“Then why can’t I get to them?” she asked desperately. “It’s like – there’s nothing I could possibly do to be enough for them.”

“You’re enough,” he told her firmly. “_You’re enough_,” he repeated when she glanced away, shaking her head as a lone tear making its way down her cheek. “And if your parents can’t see that, it’s on them. It’s not on you. How they feel, how they see you – it isn’t your fault, Harper.”

“Thank you,” she murmured gratefully. “I don’t – thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied just as softly. “I mean it.”

“I know,” she assured him. “That’s what makes it mean so much.”

They fell into a companionable silence for the next few minutes, the episode of whatever show she’d gotten into in the past few days playing in the background.

“Ice cream?” she asked after a moment, holding up the pint. “I’m pretty sure your mom got a few more pints.”

“What is that?” he questioned, trying to read the words printed on the container.

“Phish Food,” she replied. “Chocolate, marshmallows, caramel, more chocolate. It’s great. You want some?”

“I think I’ll leave it to you,” he said, smiling fondly when she simply shrugged and took another bite. “You like chocolate,” he commented after several seconds passed in silence.

“I do,” she confirmed, glancing up at him once more. “Is that surprising?”

He lifted a shoulder. “Kind of. Then again, until you started staying here, the knowledge that you ate ice cream at all would have surprised me.” He smirked when she eyed him curiously. “You do remember the recent soymilk incident, don’t you?”

“I like soymilk in my coffee,” she defended. “It’s not a lifestyle choice.”

“Okay,” Abe said amusedly, raising both hands in defeat. “Whatever you say.”

“Seriously, though, you should try this,” she suggested again.

“Eh. Don’t think my pancreas could handle it so late,” he returned. “It’s obviously not as strong as yours.”

“Abe?”

“Yes, Harper?” he responded innocently.

“Don’t make me shove you off this couch.”

“I’ll do my best,” he promised humorously. “Now. What’re we watching?”

-o-

“Abe, it’s six o’clock in the morning,” she complained, following him into the kitchen with a long-suffering sigh. “What possible reason could you have for making me get out of bed?”

“To share a recipe my family holds more sacred than the Declaration of Independence?” Abe replied innocently. “My mom bought everything for pancakes when she went shopping a few days ago,” he explained when she eyed him confusedly. “Thought you might be interested in helping me make them.”

“Your mother agreed to that?” Harper questioned incredulously. “I think she loves that recipe more than she loves you. No offense,” she added hastily.

“None taken. She also loves you more than she loves me, I’m pretty sure, so yes. She agreed. I’m just as amazed as you are.”

“Can we add chocolate chips?” she asked hopefully.

He held up a bag of the candy in response. “Like I would ever wake you up before sunrise and then deny you chocolate. I like breathing, thank you very much.”

It didn’t take long for them to mix up the batter after they’d gathered everything needed – well, after he’d gathered everything needed and scolded her every time she tried to get up from her seat. It seemed he’d taken his mother’s order to ensure she wasn’t on her injured foot any more than necessary to heart.

“So,” she began once he’d placed a plate piled high with pancakes and ridiculous amounts of chocolate syrup and whipped cream in front of her, “Colonel Turnbull called me yesterday.”

“Oh, yeah?” he replied distractedly, his attention split between her and the turkey bacon he was frying up on the stove. “What about?”

“Just to check in on me. I told her I’d be back in the office on Monday.”

“You sure you’ll be okay?” Abe checked, finishing up with the bacon and leaving it to cool on a plate before serving up their portions.

“It’s been two weeks since I got home, Abe,” she pointed out quietly. “My ribs are doing better, and my leg’s not coming out of this cast for at least another month. She promised I won’t be going back into the field until I’ve gotten a completely clean bill of health from my doctor, but yeah. I think it’s time.”

“Okay,” he replied, though the single word held no small amount of hesitation. “If you’re sure.”

“I am,” she promised, smiling her thanks when he placed her bacon in front of her. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

“Hey,” she added a moment later, smiling cheerfully up at him. “You’ll get to work with me again. Aren’t you excited?”

“Yeah,” he replied honestly, returning her grin. “I am.”

-o-

“I want pizza,” Harper mumbled from the other end of the sofa, drawing Abe’s attention from the episode of _Designated Survivor _they’d been watching for the past thirty minutes. “We should order in pizza.”

“We should,” he agreed readily, reaching for his phone. He checked that she wanted her regular, then dialed the number of their favorite pizzeria and placed their order. “It’ll be here in half an hour,” he reported once he’d ended the call.

“Great.” Harper sighed, her eyes drifting shut for a moment before she forced them back open. “I sat in a desk all day,” she complained, leaning her head against the sofa cushion. “Why am I so tired?”

“Because your body went through a pretty significant trauma not even a month ago?” Abe suggested helpfully.

“It’s not the first time,” she argued weakly.

“Doesn’t mean anything. You still have to heal.” He smiled sympathetically at her. “Believe me, I understand your frustration, but you’ll get back to where you were in no time.”

“I know,” she sighed. “I just wish it’d go by faster, that’s all.”

“Yeah. I get that, too.”

The door opened before anyone could say anything else, and Harper Li smiled at the sight of Deborah Abraham making her way inside. “Hey,” she greeted. “We just ordered in pizza.”

“From Sam’s, I hope,” Deborah replied with a smile of her own. “Or else I didn’t raise this one right.”

“It’s from Sam’s,” Abe assured her. “I’m not looking to get disowned tonight.”

“Glad to hear it.” She shook her head when she spotted what was playing on the television. “You two don’t even watch this for its entertainment value,” she complained lightheartedly. “You spend the entire time nitpicking all the ways you say it’s wrong.”

“Yeah, well, that’s Harper’s idea of unwinding,” Abe defended the choice. “You want to make fun of somebody, make fun of her.”

“Thanks, Abraham. Real nice.” Harper rolled her eyes in response to his unapologetic shrug. “There’s only a few more episodes left,” she offered. “Then we will have to find something else to nitpick.”

“You two really enjoy nitpicking, huh?” Deborah questioned amusedly, claiming one of the armchairs.

“We’re lawyers,” Abe and Harper answered at precisely the same moment.

“Yes, you are,” Deborah agreed with a laugh. “And when you do things like that, you’re also terrifying.”

“That’s fair,” Harper acquiesced. “You ordered the pasta thing, right?” she checked, turning back to Abe.

“Again, I’m not looking to be maimed tonight. Yes, I remembered the pasta thing.”

“Well, Harper,” Deborah sighed amusedly. “I’d say we have him trained pretty well between the two of us, don’t you think?”

“Yeah,” Harper agreed, smiling fondly over at the man seated next to her. “I think we do.”

-o-

“You don’t have to go,” Abe told her, not for the first time that morning. Or that week. He’d not made any secret of his opinion she could stay put as long as she’d like since the doctor had given her a clean bill of health eight days earlier.

“I’ve been here six weeks, Abe. You want your space back,” Harper sighed amusedly. “And it’s not like I’ll be vanishing into thin air. I work at the desk across from yours now, remember? You’ll still have to put up with me five days every week, possibly more.”

“I know. I just – you’re always welcome here,” he reiterated, also for the dozenth time that morning. “And you don’t have to leave.”

“Yeah,” she replied softly. “I do. But maybe I’ll take you up on the offer. I mean, you have Netflix, right?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “Yeah, I do.”

“Well, okay then.” She smiled over her shoulder as she headed for the front door. “I’ll see you at work Monday, Abraham,” she added before turning the knob and walking into the hallway.

“See you,” he returned, releasing a breath he hadn’t even known he was holding as the door closed behind her.

He stood there, staring at the closed door. After a minute or so had passed, he shook his head incredulously, sighed once more, and forced himself to turn away.

Maya had been right; he was pathetic. The only thing was that he didn’t have the damnedest idea as to what he was supposed to do about it. 

**Author's Note:**

> The Sam's they got the pizza from isn't the bar from a few stories ago, by the way. It just so happens there's both a bar and a pizza place in Quantico with that name.


End file.
